


Silvery

by Thysanotus



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/F, Femslash, Ficlet, The Quidditch Pitch: The Ladies Room
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-01-01
Updated: 2006-01-01
Packaged: 2018-10-27 07:37:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10804752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thysanotus/pseuds/Thysanotus
Summary: Cho watches Luna...





	Silvery

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Annie, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Quidditch Pitch](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Quidditch_Pitch), which went offline in 2015 when the hosting expired, at a time I was not able to renew it. I contacted Open Doors, hoping to preserve the archive using an old backup, and began importing these works as an Open Doors-approved project in April 2017. Open Doors e-mailed all authors about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [The Quidditch Pitch collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thequidditchpitch/profile).

  
Author's notes: Told in first person. My first attempt at this narration.   


* * *

I notice her drifting through the library at lunchtime. Like me, she seems weightless; no ties bind her to this mortal soil. After that day, I notice her everywhere, at meals, during the quidditch matches I force myself to go along to, study hall. I can find no explanation for this.  
  
I ask around discreetly. Her name, they say, is Luna Lovegood. Her mother is dead. Her father owns “The Quibbler.” She is a dreamer, and known for her eccentricity. I watch her breeze on a cloud through the corridors. She is two years younger than me, and in my own house.  
  
At nights, I lie in my lonely bed and wonder if her hair is as silvery all over. I want to see her eyes clenched shut in pleasure and have her grounded in the moment, because nothing is as sweet, nothing is as sharp as the pleasure she is experiencing.  
  
The next day I seize my chance. I wait in the broom closet, as she takes her usual path from Charms to Potions, daydreaming all the while. She doesn’t realise what’s happening at first, as I drag her into the closet.  
  
Even then, she stands in the middle of the floor, rubbing absently at the wrist that I grabbed. “Oh,” she says vaguely, “it’s you. I’ve been wondering if you can see the Crumple-Horned Snorkacks or not. You see, - “  
  
I stop her musings about the things I don’t want to think about with a vicious kiss. She presses up into my mouth, and her tongue gives off crackles of static that I can feel reverberating down as it meets mine.  
  
Dazedly, I notice I have her pressed against the wall, and we’re kissing like we could devour each other whole. Her tongue flicks delicately along my lower lip and I almost come right then.  
  
Slowly, I pull away from that intoxicating mouth. She stands and watches, still with the dreamy look on her face. I stretch out a hand and push her robes off her shoulders. They crumple into a dark puddle around her feet.  
  
Absently, my eyes still fixed on the stormy grey of hers, I unbutton her blouse. Her milky skin rises into goosebumps at the touch of my hand. Reverently, I remove her blouse and leave her in just the polka dotted bra. Her breasts are perky and large enough for a decent handful. I can see her nipples through the fabric, as she makes her first move out of passivity, unclasping her bra and throwing it down onto her robes.  
  
I move forward, stroking first one, then the other. I take it in turns sucking on her nipples until I feel her arch against me and her push on the back of my head.  
  
I kiss my way down her torso, ending on my knees in front of her. This is how everyone should see her. I can feel my clit, needy and wet, pushing against the rough cotton of my underwear.  
  
I lift her skirt and kiss my way up her legs. I am sitting on my heels, so that much needed friction is provided between my heel and my clit. I rock slowly and feel the pressure building in the pit of my stomach. Her panties are soaked through and I ease them down with my fingers.  
  
I can hear her breathing harder as I gently touch my tongue to her pussy. I begin to lick and suck, stroking gently at first, but with increasing pressure. As she begins to writhe above me, I slip two fingers into her dripping pussy, and match their movement to the rhythm of my tongue.  
  
I feel her begin to shudder and then she screams my name. Thank god for silencing charms.  
  
She pulls away as her clit becomes too sensitive. I leave her to dress and slip out of the broom cupboard, but not before I see her eyes, clear grey once more and grounded in reality.


End file.
